Hold Me and Heal Me
by InfinityAndOne
Summary: [Multi-Chapter, Completed] Request by bronwen100 - Hurt!Cal/Caring!Ethan. After Cal is in an accident, it's up to the staff at Holby ED to help him. But not everything can be cured with surgery and stitches.
1. Chapter 1: Hold Me

Chapter 1: Hold Me

Ethan rested his head on his hand and watched Cal in his peaceful slumber. His eyes were closed, this time, from simply being asleep. His face held no indication of pain or worry, and if it wasn't for the cuts and bruises and dressings that littered his face, no-one would have guessed he'd been a millimetre from death just a few hours ago.

But his body beneath the covers held another story. His leg was raised from the bed and in a cast, ripped to shreds and sewn back together. His chest was bandaged heavily and his entire body held cuts and bruises, just as his face. One arm was in a sling - one shoulder having been popped back into place.

And Ethan? Well, his heart was being held together with just a string. Cal had only woken up briefly after surgery but fallen back to sleep a few minutes after. And until Cal woke up again and Ethan could see, truly and utterly, that his brother was alright, his heart would stay fragile.

So he watched and waited for Cal to wake up. But he didn't expect the once peaceful Cal to turn restless and distressed in a matter of seconds.

It started off slowly. Cal's closed eyes flickered slightly, his finger flexed, his breaths only increased minimally. Ethan sat up straighter, knowing the only slight change in Cal's sleep could mean something.

But then it became more violent. Cal's hand grasped at the sheet almost desperately, his eyes flickered more, his breathing became rapid, his injured body started to move around and through his fast breathing, he was muttering.

Ethan knew better than to wake someone from their sleep, but Cal was seriously injured and if Ethan didn't wake him up soon, his injuries would only get worse.

He carefully sat on Cal's bed, lifting Cal's head just a little so it rested on his lap. He placed one gentle hand on Cal's arm (the one in a sling) for protection, and the other went to stroking his hair. He leant closer to Cal so he could whisper. Talking loudly might only disturb him more, and by the looks of it, the nightmare that Cal was stuck in wasn't pleasant at all.

He remembered when he used to get nightmares and wake to Cal comforting him and hugging him, and although it was years ago now, he still remembered the methods that Cal had taught him to calm a nightmare. So, just like Cal did when they were children, Ethan whispered soothingly to his brother, stroking his hair and hoping that this would calm him enough and he would wake up with the nightmare gone.

But Cal woke up screaming, thrashing around in Ethan's arms, only semi-awake and still living in his nightmare.

Ethan held Cal carefully, trying to calm him, mindful of his injuries. "Shhh, it's okay, Cal. It was just a dream. You're safe, your safe with me. Your brother, yeah? You're safe. It's okay." And as he talked, repeating phrases and talking calmly, Cal began to relax and wake properly.

He opened his eyes fully after a few more seconds, his breathing slowing as he started to recognise where he was and who was holding him.

"Cal, don't worry, here -" he handed Cal the morphine button, which a dazed Cal took carefully "- press this."

It didn't need a second prompt. Cal pressed it instantly, a small dose of morphine entered the IV and slowly crept into his bloodstream. Ethan was silent as Cal closed his eyes and groaned quietly, waiting for the pain relief to kick in.

"Ethan…" Cal slurred, voice thick from being recently awake, "go okay? The… the surgery?"

Ethan held his brother tighter. "Yeah, yeah it went okay. It's all okay now. You're alright."

"How bad?" Cal said as he tried to look up at Ethan. "Honestly?"

"Not so bad it couldn't be fixed without complications." Ethan knew lying to his brother wasn't for the best, but the chances of him remembering the conversation they were having were minimal thanks to the morphine, the anaesthetic probably still wearing off and the fact Cal had only really just woken up. He could learn about the complications later when his body was better and his mind was clearer.

"Thank you."

Ethan knew, from his position holding Cal, that his brother couldn't see his face. But he smiled regardless, just so Cal could even just feel that slight glow of happiness. "You're my brother. There's no need to thank me."

"I know. But thanks… anyway. For saving me."

"It's my pleasure, Caleb."

But the slight glow of happiness didn't last long because Connie Beauchamp just walked in. Ethan prayed that she wouldn't divulge the complications Cal faced in surgery, or just how bad Cal's condition was, but from the smile on her face, she didn't look set to blurt out all the ins-and-outs of his injuries.

She looked searchingly at Ethan for a moment, perhaps wondering why he was sat on Cal's bed, holding Cal (and so, okay, he wasn't supposed to be on Cal's bed, but his brother needed his help and this was the only way), but she let it drop almost a second after.

"How're you feeling Cal?"

"Better," he whispered, probably still sore despite the morphine.

"Good." She picked up his hospital notes and flicked through them. "I've just spoken to your doctor, and they said if all goes well within the next couple of weeks, you can be discharged."

Cal nodded slightly. "Thanks."

"Now, rest up and get better soon, I'm going to need you on the shop floor." She walked out without another word.

"Was she… being nice?" Cal said, humour dripping from his hoarse voice. And it was this small quality alone made the string wrapping Ethan's broken heart thicken and tighten. _This_ was the Cal he wanted to see. Not pale, unconscious and nearly dead. No, humorous and calm Cal, even lying in hospital with serious injuries.

"Yes. Yes, I think she was."


	2. Chapter 2: Hear Me

Chapter 2: Hear Me 

_6 Hours Earlier_

He opened his eyes slowly and blinked numerous amounts of times. His eyes were itchy and irritated, and they were watering a lot. All he could feel was pain, an overwhelming pain throughout his entire body. His vision was clouded by black spots, dancing mockingly in front of him.

He could vaguely see blurred shapes and colours and could hear shouting and screaming. Somewhere beside him was hot - too hot for comfort. And he was sure he was going to be sick.

Through his hazy mind, he started to piece together everything. If his dizziness wasn't tricking him, he was lying on his right side. And - God - the _pain_. He tried bringing his left hand to his face to rub his itchy eyes, but it fell back weak after only a second.

He was so tired, but he knew he had to figure out what was happening. He tried moving his head but gasped in pain as soon as he did. He kept on trying to work out what was going on, trying to think through his fuzzy brain.

He tightly shut his eyes, desperately thinking about where he was before he woke up. He couldn't even remember falling asleep, and this was definitely not his bedroom.

He groaned in pain when he tried to move again and opened his eyes. His vision was still watered down, but he started to gain a little more focus now. He concentrated on where he was. On what he could feel and hear and see.

And then, kicking himself for not noticing before, he saw the broken windshield. There was glass inside and outside his car, he was trapped against the steering wheel, and he was on his side because his _car_ was on its side.

He'd been in a car accident.

He was trapped, in serious amounts of pain and probably had numerous injuries. He had no idea if help was on his way and -

 _Oh,_ _God_. Now he realised why it was so hot. Beyond and slightly to the right of the broken windshield, there were flames. Bright orange flames.

This was it. He was going to die. He couldn't remember how this happened and he couldn't get out. The last thing he ever said to Ethan was horrible and he was never going to see him again.

Ethan...

His mind immediately flashed to Ethan, to his little brother. His goofy grin and geeky glasses. He wished and wished that he could just see him one more time and apologise. He didn't mean a word he said, he was just angry. He was stupidly angry and he took it out on Ethan… and he would never see him again.

Bracing himself for the pain to come, his shaky left arm and hand slid into his pocket, and while the journey was only centimeters, his pain almost doubled - something Cal didn't think was possible. Surely, for a human to be feeling this much pain, they'd be halfway to death.

And Cal knew just how true that was.

He tried to tense his muscles, trying to slip his hand into his pocket and grab his phone, but the pain was so bad he had to stop for a bit. And despite the newly returned black spots in his vision, he persevered. He _was_ going to get his phone. He needed to say goodbye.

Eventually, his shaky hand gripped as much as it could to his phone. Cal could already feel a crack on it, but as long as it worked, that didn't matter. He wondered how long he'd been unconscious for - he had no sense of time and he didn't even know when the accident had occurred. And as he pressed the power button, the time on his phone meant nothing to him. It was just another time. And time moved on - so he had to call Ethan and he had to call him _quickly_.

It was almost muscle memory by now. Slide up the home screen, press in 281186 as his passcode (because even when drunk, he'd never forget his little brother's birthday), press the phone icon and press his brother's speed dial: 1. Because Ethan was the most important person in his life and he'd stay that way.

But as his increasing weakness and tiredness only got worse, and he was only barely hanging onto consciousness, he was unsure he'd ever get the phone to his ear.

 _Ethan_ , his brain reminded him. _Do it for Ethan_. So, with Ethan in mind, he managed to make it. And when he could hear ring after ring, he was worried Ethan wouldn't pick u-

"Caleb? Where are you? You're _late_ for goodness sake -"

"Ethan…," he breathed, probably too quiet for Ethan to hear.

"C-Cal? Are you… okay?"

And when he started speaking, properly trying to speak, he realised just how hard it was for him to breathe. "I...," he coughed harshly, the violent movement almost making the pain too much to bear.

"Talk to me, Cal," Ethan said urgently. " _Cal_."

"D-dun… o… where…"

It was silent on the other end of the line for a few seconds, a few seconds too long, and all Cal wanted was to hear his brother's voice and to say sorry. The darkness in his vision started getting worse at the corners, and he knew it was a very real possibility that he wasn't going to make it out alive.

He didn't want to die…

"Caleb, please tell me you're okay."

Cal coughed again.

"Oh God, Cal. Please, please tell me you aren't the RTC on the motorway… you better not be, Caleb. Seriously, Cal. Tell me you're okay. Cal!"

"I-I love y-you, Eth… Nib-Nibbles, I'm s-sorry…"

"Don't you dare say goodbye, Cal!"

He could feel himself sinking into the dark abyss. "L-lov -"

And then he knew nothing more.


	3. Chapter 3: Help Me

Chapter 3: Help Me

Ethan slowly brought his phone away from his ear and stared at it. Cal had gone quiet. His big brother, who could possibly be in a life-threatening car crash, had gone quiet. He stared at the picture of Cal on his phone, indicating it was just him who he'd been talking to. His grinning face stared right back at him, and Ethan felt his heart clench painfully.

He knew what he needed to do.

Walking back to the Nurses' Station was extremely quick. He'd only gone to a quieter area because Cal hadn't turned up for work, and considering he was ringing, Ethan thought it best to answer. But his attention was caught by Connie notifying them of an RTC on the motorway… and then he put 2 and 2 together. And he hoped, oh _God_ he hoped, that he got 5 by assuming it was Cal in the car crash. But his gut instinct had rarely been wrong.

Cal was in serious trouble.

He just managed to catch the end of Connie talking, instructing that Dylan should be one of the two doctors on-site alongside the paramedics. "Lily, I wou -"

"Mrs Beauchamp," he interrupted, uncaring of just who he was cutting off. "I'd like to go."

She shook her head. "You're needed here, Dr Hardy."

He looked at her pleadingly. "Please, Mrs Beauchamp. I think- I think Dr Knight is one of the injured people."

Her shock didn't show on her face, but her voice held deep emotion. "That's not a good idea, Ethan. He's your family. You're not allowed to treat him."

Ethan was desperate. "But I'm not confirming it's him… and anyway -" he looked apologetically at Lily for what he was about to say, "- I have more experience than Lily."

Lily only smiled, and Ethan thanked the world for having a friend like Lily, who knew he _needed_ to do this.

Connie sighed and rubbed her head. "Okay, you and Dylan. Go on, hurry up."

Ethan rushed out 'thanks' and practically ran to get his uniform on. His brother needed him. Nothing else mattered now.

* * *

As Ethan was sat in the back of the ambulance, he couldn't see the crash site. But he could hear sirens, and not just from the ambulance he was in. But judging by the way that Iain cursed, he could tell that this crash site was awful.

And when they finally came to a halt, Ethan almost couldn't bring himself to step out. But _Cal_ might be there, so he held his breath, opened the door, and jumped out of the ambulance. When he made the way round the side to the crash, he felt like cursing too.

It was an absolute mess.

He didn't know the cause of it yet (no doubt he'd find out soon), but he did know that the chances of people making it out alive were very slim. It was absolute chaos.

On one side of the motorway there was a coach - one of the sides bashed up and a car implanted in it. _Oh no_. There were children walking around. That coach held primary school children. _Please, please let them all be okay_.

But at least they were walking around. Injured, but walking. The car that crashed into it was smashed up, the front practically annihilated. Grimly, Ethan knew that driver wasn't getting out of there alive.

The cars behind had crashed into each other - some had skidded to avoid the crash and ended up crashing themselves, and others had stopped and people had evacuated their cars.

But, as Ethan scanned all the vehicles, Cal's car wasn't to be seen. And while Ethan was eternally grateful, where the hell was Cal then? Why was he ringing and why did he sound injured and… like he was saying goodbye?

"Ethan, you're needed down there."

His heart plummeted. He couldn't see where 'down there' was, but it meant another car that he hadn't seen, and therefore the possibility that it could be Cal's car.

"Where?" he asked, the question coming out strained as if his throat was too small for words to fit through.

"There." Iain pointed to a torn open railing. "Apparently the coach was slammed into by a speeding driver, and the coach crashed into the car in front - sending it through there and down."

He nodded sharply just once. He needed to know whether _this_ was Caleb.

So he grabbed his medical bag, realising that he'd been studying the crash for far too long as Jez was probably already down there, and made his way to the railing. He braced himself as he looked down (it wasn't that far of a drop, but any drop made Ethan's stomach churn) and saw the smashed up car. It was on its side, most of the glass broken and the car heavily dented. There was fire right by it, and Ethan knew that the car could go up any second if the firefighters - _how_ did he not notice the firefighters before? - didn't extinguish it.

Ethan started to shake violently. It was Cal's car. OhGodohGodoh _God_. He looked behind him to see Dylan and all the other paramedics, almost wishing he could just get one of them to help Cal instead. Because he wasn't sure he'd be able to. But, if this was the last time Ethan could see him, he would help him.

At the very least, he needed to say sorry for this morning. Even when Cal was on the phone with him earlier, saying goodbye, Ethan didn't even give him an 'I love you'. Cal _can't_ die without knowing that Ethan really loved him.

So, on shaky legs, he started making his way down the hill - all worries of heights forgotten because _Cal_ was at the bottom in a smashed up car.

And, after what felt like hours, he fell onto his knees beside Jez and another paramedic - Lacy? - sorting and gathering medical supplies.

Jez barely looked at him before he was reeling off information. "Unidentified male, unconscious. He's tachycardic at 127, GCS 4, his resp rate is high - we're thinking possible collapsed lung - he hasn't regained consciousness since we've been here. The crash happened around 20 minutes ago, and since we've been here we can't get close enough because of the fire. They're worried there's a petrol leak - it could go up at any moment."

And that's why he was saying goodbye. Cal was a doctor, he knew, he _knew_ that his condition was not good. His brother was almost unrecognisable through all the blood, but he knew. "Jez… Jez, it's Cal."

Jez stopped his frantic searching for supplies immediately and locked eyes on the battered body in the car. "What?"

"It's Cal," Ethan repeated quietly. "That's… that's Caleb."

" _Shit_!"

"He rang me about 10 minutes ago. He was conscious but-but breathless. He went quiet though. I don't know if-if he was awake before he rang me or if he was KO'd in the crash," he said. "He… probably was," he added grimly.

"We need to get in there right now," Lacy said. "This fire could spread and blow him up in minutes."

Ethan shivered from the blunt language and Jez looked at him sympathetically, very briefly.

Then Ethan looked at his brother, unmoving. He didn't care about the danger. He didn't give it a second thought. He rushed forward and knelt by the broken windshield. He could feel the heat of the fire, but all he could really focus on was Cal.

Jez seemed to agree with Ethan because he darted forward too. Cal was going to be saved. He had to be.

* * *

The fire was spreading slowly, the firefighters trying to find the best way to tackle it without aggravating it. Cal was losing blood, his condition was worsening, an oxygen mask was placed firmly over his nose and mouth, but he was hanging onto consciousness now. Not alert and barely awake but responsive enough.

"We need to get him out, his breathing is not good," Jez stated grimly. He stood and frantically went away, coming back moments later with a board and Iain.

"How do we want to do this?" Iain said, crouching beside Ethan.

"We can't disrupt that fire, and he could have a neck and back injury. We need to be careful of that leg too," Ethan stated, almost numb to the fact that it was his brother lying there.

"Come on. Let's do it."

But then the fire grew more violent. And Cal's eyelids started to flutter more. _No, Cal… you don't want to wake more now… you'll only be more scared_.

But his previous state of semi-consciousness only drifted as he came back more. Ethan stroked his hair lightly, eyeing the fire, knowing it was getting more and more dangerous to be sitting there.

"Ethan, get back!" Iain shouted as Jez and he retreated.

"Ni… Nibb…"

"Shh, don't try and speak. It's okay. I'm here." He stroked his brother's cheek in the hope to comfort him, seeing how scared Cal was.

"Don… don't… l… leave…" Cal groaned, talking causing him pain.

"I won't Cal." He looked at the fire to the side. "I love you, Cal. I'm sorry for this morning, okay?" he said frantically, trying to get it out. "I'm really sorry and I love you and I'm here with you."

"Get back, Ethan! Seriously!"

He could feel the flames daring to creep up on him. This was going to blow up and Cal was still stuck.

"I'm sorry for this, Cal."

And uncaring of any spinal injury, Ethan braved it and pulled his brother out.

* * *

Those painful screams were going to haunt Ethan forever. He'd never heard his brother in so much distress, and he hoped he'd never hear it again, but Cal was safely away from the now blown up vehicle. And in a haze of shaking and thinking and worry, Cal was on a board with his neck and spine immobilised, his leg protected and Ethan inserting a chest drain to treat a haemothorax. And surprisingly, Ethan's hands were completely steady while slicing open his brother's skin and inserting the tube. He just hoped it would make Cal's condition marginally better.

"I've rung ahead, they know it's Cal. You… won't be able to treat him when we get to the ED," Jez said from the front as Iain sped up.

"He's my brother and my patient. I'm treating him," he said adamantly.

The rest of the short journey was silent. Ethan stared at his barely conscious brother, gripping his hand and hoping that Cal would survive.

And he was sure he must have zoned out because the next time he felt like he was in reality was crashing through the doors of the ED with his brother's body on a trolley, while Iain reeled off Cal's condition.

Connie looked sternly at Ethan as they entered resus. "You can't treat him now."

Ethan only continued. "Yes, I can. He's my patient."

"You can stay in here, but you're not treating him."

Ethan shook his head and ground his teeth, but as he went to check the chest drain, he was pulled away by firm arms and held. "Get off me, Charlie," he growled.

Charlie didn't answer or loosen his hold. Ethan could only watch as a flurry of staff members were trying to save his brother's life. He relaxed in Charlie's arms. Suddenly he wasn't so sure he _could_ help Cal.

His relaxing made Charlie let go of him, and Ethan just stood there. His mind went blank, everything they were doing to Cal was filtered out and he didn't know what was going on. Cal was barely conscious, aware but not alert. Ethan almost wanted him to be unconscious instead of stuck in a painful limbo.

"Ethan?" Connie said. "He's asking for you."

He looked at Connie, processing what she said for a moment before rushing to the only unoccupied area by Cal - behind his head. He stroked his head like Cal did to him when they were children.

"Hey, Cal," he whispered, quiet enough not to be abrasive but loud enough to be heard over those awful machines that were a constant reminder that Cal was hanging between life and death. Cal gazed up at him like a lost boy and Ethan felt his eyes filling with tears. He looked terrified. "It's okay, Cal. You're going to be alright."

Ethan managed to block out the majority of the movements and sounds around him, only focused on his big brother lying there. But he was constantly aware of the machine letting everyone know how Cal's heart was beating.

And when that machine spat out a long and drawn out noise, and his big brother's eyes closed, all Ethan could feel was a crushing on his chest and a weight on his heart. His eyes blurred completely and he felt nothing as he hit the ground.

* * *

Ethan gulped in air desperately as he slowly came back to the present. He could feel his entire body shaking forcefully and the world was tilting harshly around him. He could vaguely hear someone telling him to breathe slowly and reassuring him that he was okay through the rushing in his ears, but he didn't recognise them and he wasn't sure he believed them. His voice was protesting against them, but he wasn't commanding it.

But eventually, it didn't feel as if someone was squeezing his lungs so he couldn't get any air into his body. He started to see everything clearer and started to realise just where he was.

"You back with me now, Ethan?" Charlie asked softly.

Ethan nodded, words beyond him at the moment.

"Okay, good. Keep breathing slowly." He realised an oxygen mask had been placed on his face just as it was being removed, and he could feel the itchy hospital bed underneath him.

Then the reason why he was so worked up in the first place slapped him in the face and scrambled to get off the bed and to his brother.

Soft but firm hands landed on his shoulders, enough to halt his actions. "Easy, there. You can see him in a minute, Ethan. Let's just get you calm first, or else you'll have another panic attack."

Oh. So that's what was happening.

"Ch-Charlie," he stuttered out, throat feeling closed up. "H-he o-okay?"

He smiled. "Yes. He's fine. They brought him back."

The energy drained from Ethan's body in his sigh of relief and his breathing finally started to even out properly. He leant back against the propped up bed. "I can't lose him."

Charlie's hand stayed on his shoulder. "You won't."

From where he had been sitting, he couldn't see Cal's bed. But he was desperate just to look at his brother. "Can I…?"

"Stay there. I'll check."

Ethan tried to block out the sounds around him and he shut his eyes. He didn't feel spaced out anymore, and he could breathe easier. But he would not be free of the weight on his chest until he could see for himself that Cal was okay.

Connie's voice made his eyes snap back open instantly. "He's going up to surgery -"

"Surgery? Why?"

She held up a hand to silence him. "We had to do a clamshell thoracotomy, Ethan."

Ethan gagged and held a hand over his mouth. He'd done one before, he knew what they looked like and he knew the circumstances in which they were used. A bowl was thrust under his chin, and despite shaking his head in protest, his stomach gave another violent lurch as he imagined Cal being opened up, and he vomited painfully.

A hand rubbed his back through it, and the bowl was discarded quickly when Ethan was finished. He quickly wiped his mouth on the tissue he was given and stuttered out an apology to both Charlie and Connie.

"Don't worry about it, Ethan."

Connie continued from earlier. "Ethan, I'm not going to lie to you. Cal's not in a good way. But you can see him before he goes up to surgery, okay? You don't have long."

He nodded and shakily got off the bed, stumbling slightly and still feeling weak. Charlie supported him over to his brother, who had a sheet covering the majority of his body and an intubation tube stuck down his throat. Ethan shook at the sight of the unnatural and ghastly thing helping his brother breathe.

 _At least he's alive_.

"Hey, Caleb." He knew Cal couldn't hear him, but he kept his eyes focused on his face, still handsome beneath the cuts and bruises and that God-awful tube. But now he was stuck with what to say. He felt he needed to say something, and Connie and Charlie had given him the privacy he needed with his brother, but he couldn't think of anything. "It's your turn to do the cleaning this week," he whispered, smiling to himself and feeling the dampness of tears on his cheeks. "Oh, Cal. You need to get better, you hear me? I need you. I really, really need you, Caleb. Okay? Please… please get better."

"Ethan," came from behind him. "He has to go now."

He nodded without looking at Connie. He kissed his brother's forehead softly then rested his forehead against Cal's for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing in the faint scent of Cal's shampoo, ignoring the much stronger scent of blood. "I love you, Cal."

Ethan stepped back, away from his big brother. _Don't let this be the last time I see you alive. Don't you dare._

And he watched as his brother's body, an inch from death, was taken away. And when he was gone, Ethan fell onto his knees and cried for his big brother.

* * *

Even with his head in his hands, he could recognise the familiar high heels of Connie Beauchamp. He heard that she insisted on leading in surgery, but he had also heard that there were complications. So now he was sitting in the staffroom, having known that it was the best place for him to be, waiting for news on his brother.

"Ethan."

His head snapped up. Connie was here to tell him something. _Please let it be good news_.

"He's out of recovery." She smiled. "He's going to be just fine."

Ethan almost jumped up and hugged her right then, but instead, he reflected her smile and thanked her quietly. "Can I see him?"

"Of course. Come on, I'll take you to him."

Ethan didn't take any notice of the people around him, or indeed where they were going, as Connie was taking him to his brother. All he was focused on was seeing Cal, seeing for himself, that he was alive and okay.

And while, when Ethan laid eyes on his brother as the door to his room was opened, Cal looked horribly pale, he was breathing for himself and the monitor beside him showed a steady heartbeat.

"Have some time with him, I'll update you later." The door shut behind him, indicating that Connie was gone. Ethan stepped slowly further into the room, careful not to disturb his brother (though he doubted he would) and collapsed heavily into the chair beside Cal's bed. Ethan held his hand tightly. It was just a waiting game now.

And Ethan would wait for as long as it took.


	4. Chapter 4: Heal Me

Chapter 4: Heal Me

 _Two And A Half Weeks Later_

Cal was getting discharged today, and he couldn't wait. He was so sick of staring at the same four walls. The constant observations and prodding and dressing changes (he did _not_ want to see where he was cut open, thank you very much) and… just _everything_.

Over the past couple of weeks, since he'd woken up properly, he'd been more or less quiet. Unwilling to talk to the doctors, nurses and even Ethan. His sleeping had been so severely disturbed, when it wasn't dangerous considering all the pain relief he was dosed up with, he was given sleeping tablets. Ethan had made sure he'd taken them after he'd refused the first few nights. Cal just hated the way they made him feel.

It was like he was back in the crash all over again - feeling himself slipping into darkness, not knowing whether he'd ever wake up again. And while he knew, he _knew_ that he would wake up again (Ethan had assured him so the first time he'd let slip the reasons why he wasn't taking the tablets), the feeling of losing control over whether he slept or not was terrifying. If Ethan wasn't looking, Cal would spit them out, still proving difficult to hide them or not grunt in pain if he moved too fast. But it worked. However, sometimes he wouldn't, and he would fall asleep terrified he wouldn't wake up.

But he made sure, every time, he looked at Ethan until he fell asleep. If it was his last moment, he wanted it to be looking at the most important person in his life. And thank God Ethan always stayed. He'd always be there at night, stroking Cal's hair until he fell asleep. Cal had protested at first, despite how comforting it was, but Ethan didn't relent.

Cal couldn't say he was too upset about that.

But even during the day, if he was left alone, terror gripped at him. He was so scared, so terrified that he was going to die in that crash, that even the thought of being alone was enough to get him worked up. Sometimes to the point where he couldn't breathe properly.

What if something happened to him? What if he had an undetected infection and then it got worse and worse and worse and no-one realised and no-one was there and-and he couldn't die, not alone, not without Ethan, not-

And there it was again. The crushing pain on his chest. His mind started to replay it in his head; the pain, the heat of the fire beside him, the overwhelming burning in his leg that wasn't connected to the fire at all, the thinking and the knowledge that he was going to die, the desperation to speak to his little brother one last time, to apologise…

He couldn't breathe.

Someone was squeezing his lungs, pressing on his throat, choking him and killing him. He could feel the fire and the heat and the pain and the realisation that this was it, that he was going to die, and Ethan wasn't there with him. He needed… he needed his little brother. He needed Ethan. He needed Ethan!

A voice started to break through to his mind, to his thoughts. Unlike a negative and cutting voice that haunted him, it was soft and calm and relaxing. Cal tried to see who it was, tried to see where he was, but all he could see was fire and loneliness and death.

And Cal was terrified.

Somewhere beside him, he felt a soft and warm hand stroking his hair, combing their fingers through it. He managed to finally see through the fire, through everything, that Ethan…

Ethan was there beside him. He wasn't alone.

"It's okay, Cal."

His voice finally reached him, finally became comprehensible in his head. And he wasn't alone. He wasn't going to die alone.

"You're going to be okay. Just breathe in and out, slowly and deeply. Match my breathing, come on. You can do this. I'm here."

His hand was held and placed on Ethan's chest. He could feel Ethan's slow and regular breaths and realised that he, himself, was gasping.

"Come on, Cal. You can do this."

And, with Ethan there, he knew he could.

* * *

Cal hated that sad look Ethan had on his face. He'd seen it far too often recently.

"What?" he growled, embarrassed to be caught like the again (but still glad he wasn't dying).

Ethan turned away briefly. "It's nothing, just -" he turned back and looked Cal in the eye, "- if these keep happening, maybe you should, y'know, talk to someone?"

It was Cal's turn to look away now. "I'm _fine_ , Ethan. How many times? I'm okay."

"Cal. Caleb, look at me." Ethan's hand on his knee made him follow the ask. "I know, remember? I know what it's like to… well..."

"To what, Ethan? To feel helpless?" He tried to sit up more, but the movement jarred his injured leg and he hissed in pain. "No, don't do anything. I'm okay. Don't say you understand, Ethan. You weren't there. I could _feel_ the flames! I was all alone, I couldn't move and I could feel the flames and I couldn't breathe properly and I thought, for all the time I was in that damned car I thought I was going to die! Do you know what that's like? Do you?! And then hearing the car blow up when you're inches from it but you're in so much pain that you think you might die just from that. But that's not enough, is it? Because you're a doctor and you know, you know what the pain means and the injuries and you _know_ you're going to die!"

"Cal," Ethan whispered.

"So don't you _dare_ say you understand, or any of the _crap_ that people come out with."

Ethan held Cal's hand so tightly that Cal couldn't pull away. "I _do_ know what it's like, Caleb. To hear the monitors go off and to feel yourself slipping and knowing you can't do anything about it. I remember it all through a haze of pain and pain relief."

Cal, for the first time since the accident, let a tear roll down his cheek in front of someone else.

"But I had _you_ there, Caleb. Every step of the way with me. Helping me and making sure I was always okay… and maybe a little bit _too_ protective at times," he laughed, gripping Cal's had tighter. "Cal, I know I'm your younger brother and you think you have some… duty to protect me. But I can protect you too, and I will."

Cal slightly smiled. "You saved my life… I owe you one."

"I think we're even now," Ethan said light-heartedly as if he'd finally said what he'd been wanting to say for years.

* * *

"I hate this thing."

Ethan raised his eyebrows. "You've been using it in the hospital."

"But this is different," he protested, pouting like a child. "This is… outside."

"You've been outside in it!"

"But this is… outside, outside. Like, 'out of the hospital grounds' outside."

Ethan laughed.

"This is in no way funny."

"You're going to have to get used to it, Cal. You can't use crutches until your shoulder heals, and no, leaning on my does not count. You can't use me everywhere you go."

Cal stared up at him, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes.

"That might have worked when I was six and you wanted my sweets, but no. You're just going to have to lump it, Cal."

He sighed and rolled his eyes, looking at the wheelchair defectively. "Fine."

"And anyway -" Ethan leant in close to whisper in his ear, giggling slightly, "- now you haven't got any pretty nurses to help you to the bathro-"

" _Ethan_!"

* * *

"I'm not happy," Cal moaned as he was helped out of his wheelchair and onto the sofa. "This is stripping away all of my dignity… _and_ my reputation."

Ethan huffed out a laugh. "There's nothing wrong with your brother helping you, you know."

Cal looked up at him, clenching his teeth. "I know. But it's… _you_. You're my _little_ brother. I'm meant to be helping you, not the other way around."

He felt the sofa dip beside him as Ethan sat down. "I thought we talked about this."

"Yes. We did. But…" Cal paused.

"But what?"

Cal refused to answer, knowing he said too much.

"Caleb," Ethan pushed.

"It's embarrassing, okay?!" Cal spat out. "This -" he waved around, "- is embarrassing."

"I'm your brot -"

"- yes, brother. As you keep reminding me. It's still embarrassing," he hissed.

Ethan stood up quickly, now twice as tall as Cal sitting on the sofa. "You weren't embarrassed in the hospital," he stated accusingly.

"Ooh, wasn't I?" he said sarcastically, looking Ethan dead in the eye.

"I don't know why you're getting angry with me!"

Cal didn't know why either, so he went for the oldest defence mechanism in the book. "Just leave me alone, will you! I don't _need_ you! I can look after myself."

Ethan stared at him for a few seconds, eyes blazing but betraying the hurt he felt. "Fine." And then he walked out.

As soon as Ethan was gone, all Cal wanted to do was scream for him to come back. He didn't mean to get angry, he was just sick of being ill, all because of some stupid car accident. He was sick of being scared and sick of the nightmares and sick, so, _so sick_ of replaying that God-awful day in his head. He didn't know what was wrong with him. When he was with Ethan, everything was fixed. He was okay. But whenever Ethan was gone, he felt more alone than ever.

And he was embarrassed. He was used to fending for himself, used to his independence. But having it stripped away from him (coupled with the overwhelming fear that he was going to die, of course) made him snap at the one person he didn't want to go.

He needed to prove to himself that he could do this though. He didn't need to be scared and he was okay.

With his good arm, he started to push himself off the sofa. It was a little awkward because his good arm was his left - and the armrest was on his right side - but he managed to balance on his left leg (although a little shaky and weak) and stand up. But his wheelchair wasn't as close as he'd like, so he tried to turn a little to his good arm could steady himself on the coffee table. He shifted his left leg forward, keeping his injured right leg elevated. But as he lifted his left arm off the table and went to and bring the wheelchair forward, he lost his balance, slipped and fell with a _thump_ onto the floor. The sudden movement and crashing onto the only slightly padded carpeted floor made him cry out with pain.

And it threw Cal right back into the car.

* * *

It took a while for him to calm. He wasn't sure how long it took for Ethan to realise he was in crisis, and he wasn't sure how long it took for Ethan to calm him down, but he found himself being taken to his bedroom.

He was completely silent while Ethan was helping him, still shaky and panicky. He kept imagining the crash, kept thinking about how close he was to dying and how real it became. The thought made his breathing pick up again, but Ethan was quick to calm him this time.

He smiled very slightly in combined sympathy and leaving Cal at ease as he helped him take some painkillers and help him lie down. He pulled the covers over Cal and stroked his hair once.

"Cal," Ethan said quietly, kneeling down next to Cal's bed and looking at Cal with sad eyes. "Would you like me to go?"

He was patient with Cal while he found his voice and made up his mind. "Stay," Cal whispered. "Please."

Ethan lay on Cal's bed, on his side towards his brother. Cal closed his eyes and shifted towards his brother, feeling safe as Ethan kept on stroking his hair. He could feel Ethan's heartbeat, and it calmed him.

He knew he was forgiven as he drifted off to sleep. And for the first time since the accident, he felt safe.

He was with Ethan, and he knew Ethan would always protect him.

* * *

 _A/N So, this is the end of this short multi-chapter fic. I hope you all enjoyed and I really hope this is what you wished for bronwen100! Thank you for the favourites, follows and reviews. 'Til next time!_


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